Wolf's challenge accepted!
by Malluchan
Summary: Series of one-shots for Wolf's 100 themes challenge. Please R&R! T for the age group it's targeted at.
1. Fuel

So here we are, reader. Me and my best friends, the turtles. This diary is taken from our daily lives, in response to Wolf's 100 themes challenge. And never fear, there is some strange moment in our lives that fits with every theme in the contest.

So our first prompt is fuel...lemme see, fuel...

Here we go. Breakfast. We were at breakfast. One-shot. So we were at breakfast, but there was no breakfast.

"Come on, man! I need some fuel!" Whined Mikey.

"Make your own breakfast." I was incredibly grumpy that morning, the annoying little kid next door kept yelling and stuff, and I couldn't get any sleep.

"Fuel...Fuuueeeelll...running out of fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuue eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll llllllllllll..."

"What are you, Mikey, a car?"

"Yeees...I need to go to the gas statiooonnn...I'm runnin' on emptyyyyyy..."

"Will you not whine like that, please?" Said Leo. "It's annoying. You sound like a kid."

"I aaaammmm a kiiiddd..."

"I thought you said you were a car."

"Vroooooommmm..." He slow-walked to the fridge. Pulled out a carrot. "Nah." Proceeded to throw undesired objects behind him, like they do in the cartoons. Oh wait.

"Cocoooaaaa pebleeeesss..."

"STOP THAT, Mikey!"

"Okay, okay." He pulled the cereal from the fridge, the reason for it being in the fridge shall remain unexplained.

"Mm." He munched on the cereal blissfully, dry, so it wouldn't get soggy. And the way the milk turns brown is gross.

"This is the perfect fuel for a growing car."


	2. Equipment

"All that equipment you carry around will choke you someday. I mean, look at that red spot on your neck."

Casey had walked into the apartment. He rarely shows up. But always, always hockey gear with him. Why?

And baseball bats, croquet mallets-can the man even play croquet?-and even a chainsaw sometimes.

"You carry around too much equipment, Casey."

"Nah." And so, he collapses on my couch. Like ALWAYS. He thinks he can just crash here. Sometimes he's a real jerk.

I stood over him, hands on my hips. "You may be friends with the boys, but you can't just crash here, Casey."

"Why?"

"You, you're trouble...you're gonna HAVE trouble someday, 'f you're not careful..."

"Uh-huh."

So I decided to show him what a gal can really do. He woke up and his gear bag was gone. No equipment. And when I returned it, I had set the boys loose on it.

Hearts sharpied on the chainsaw. Pink stripes on his croquet mallets. The baseball bat was adopted by Mikey and doodled on ALL OVER.

That taught Casey that if he didn't want his gear MJ-fied, he should just leave his equipment at home. And every time he crashes on my couch, he will end up with pink toenails, so help me.


	3. Father

The boys don't call Master Splinter "Father" very often.

They usually call him "Splinter" among themselves, or "Sensei". Usually he's addressed as "Father" only when they're in need of emotional comfort. I call him Yoshi-san or Hamato-san.

I asked them why they don't call him Father once, and they said it was just weird. Teenagers don't really want to address anyone as Father. It's just not cool. And the name Dad just doesn't work for him.

He said once that he would like it if they called him Father more often, but doesn't mind the names they call him by. I guess it just makes the times that they do address him as Father all the more special, and he likes it that I address him with a more affectionate name, Yoshi-san.

I heard Leo call him Otosan a few times, the Japanese word for father, and a name that even Donnie adopted to use for him.

Raph tried out Dad one time, and got smacked on the head.

Mikey used to use Daddy when he was younger, but if he did that now it would be embarrassing.

Splinter's like a father to all of us. He cares for us, loves us, helps us, and punishes us. Well he can't really punish me. That's my dad's job. But he definitely tries.

There was one time when Mikey and I went to get pizza for dinner, and had to walk home in the rain. We ruined the carpet in my house, and even though it wasn't Splinter's home, he got really mad. It was really funny. He made Michelangelo clean the carpet, and he was trying to get me to also, but my dad came in and they had a fight. I ended up not having to clean the carpet after all.

He's a funny person. His sons are so Americanized, but he stays true to Japan. Even when we eat pizza, he spends forever cutting it up just so he can eat it with chopsticks. But that's normal for a dad to do. You know how we all laugh when our parents say stuff like "awesome" and "dude"? It's because dads and moms aren't supposed to say those things. They're supposed to say comforting things. They're supposed to be weird. They live how they were raised instead of dwelling in the future. It's what they're supposed to do.


	4. Grief

The boys cause me so much grief.

It's something I once heard my dad say about a really annoying customer. I don't mean it. It's just that they cause a lot of trouble.

Leonardo causes me grief with his perfectionism. He freaks out if he does something wrong, like the time he accidentally bumped into me really hard in the hallway and knocked the wind out of me. He was running in the house too, and that was bad. When he tried to cook us spaghetti and accidentally spilled spaghetti sauce on the floor and my dad slipped on it, Leo got so freaked out that he spent an hour cleaning the kitchen floor.

Michelangelo is the opposite. If he bumps into you he'll pretend to die, and it's even worse when he gets ahold of spaghetti sauce. One time Raph watched a scary movie about zombies that Casey dared him to watch, and Mikey came into his room later that night with spaghetti sauce smeared on him, pretending to be a zombie. My dad and Splinter both yelled at Mikey for wasting food. Or there was the time he gave Klunk a bath in the sink, then when he cleaned out the hair clog, he was too lazy to walk to the trash, so he put it on Donnie's pillow instead.

Raphael will destroy anything that gets in his way. If the bathroom door gets stuck, he'll rip a hole in it. If he trips over a rollerskate, he'll throw it out a window. A CLOSED window. Or there's this annoying habit he has of singing Mariah Carey songs in the shower. He can even go as high as she can. If he sees a spider or a fly or something, he screams and goes berserk.

Donatello will go days without sleep, in a coffee-induced energy rush. Give that boy too much coffee and he'll terrorize you for 3 hours and then sleep for 6 hours. He's always testing his inventions on us and our stuff, always taking apart our electronics so he can use the parts for experiments. And coffee unlocks his prankster side. Raph'll end up traumatized by Donnie's fake bugs, Mikey'll run screaming about getting nachos dumped on his head, Leo'll have his dreams messed with while he's asleep.

Yes, these boys cause me grief. But they're my best friends. After all, that's what friends are for, isn't that right?


	5. Inspire

I may live with a rat, a father, and 4 goofballs. But that doesn't mean there aren't things here fit to inspire.

Everyone says something inspiring sometimes. I want to list for you some of our most inspiring lines here, just to prove it.

Leonardo

"I promise never to mistake deodorant for cheese again". Bad mistake, but very heartfelt apology.

"Don't give up, Mikey. Don't give up. Here, I'll give up so you don't have to."

"Raph, you've got to get ahold of yourself, otherwise I'll have to cook you dinner." That one inspires respect.

Raphael

"I know I'm angry sometimes, but you're still my brother...YOU WON'T BE MY BROTHER MUCH LONGER THOUGH CAUSE I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

"Dreeeeeam lover come rescuuueee meee..." -in the shower, of course.

"Last night I looked up to the sky and wondered...how in the world the stars could be up there and not fall down...and also where in the world is my ceiling? Donnie, did you take my ceiling for an experiment?"

Donatello

"You never realize what you have till it's gone. And usually it's gone because my KID BROTHER BROKE IT!"

"I will be here for you always, to hold you and love you and warm you up and call you my own...my beloved coffee."

"You know who my role model is?...Flint Lockwood. Him and that wonderful machine, the one we all know and love...the FLDSMDFR..."

Michelangelo

"I will face my fear violently!" (He meant valiantly.)

"Awww, you don't have to cry, little guy...it's gonna be okay. I'll stop your pain for you. Just c'mere and let me hold you." -to a piece of toast

"I may have a brain the size of a grape. I may be little. I may not know a whole lot, and I may like puppies a little to much. But that's beside the point, could you fix the couch? I think I broke it."

Yoshisan

"Margaret"-he insists on calling me by my first name-"You know I see you as a daughter. I care a lot about you. You mean a lot to me. So please...for me...could you fix the VCR player?"

"Swwweeeet Caroliiinee...doot-doot-doooo..." He's horrible at singing but makes a touching effort.

"My son, there comes a time when we must all sacrifice what we want for the greater good. And in this case, you must give me your cake because it is bad for you."

Me (MJ)

"Michelangelo is like a blossoming cow, when it first ventures out into the lagoon and finds it cannot swim and then dies except the rabid chicken comes to save it. Raph's the rabid chicken."

"You can't rush these things...you just have to wait for the right moment." -about a waffle

"Do you ever wonder why in the world poor vegetables must die at the hands of cruel, cruel vegetarians?"-to a piece of fried chicken

My dad

"Your heart has to beat perfectly, you have to breathe, IN, out, IN out-IIIIIIIIIIINNN-" He then faints.

"Keep calm, I'm here, it's ok, there's no need to panic. AAAAAAGH!"

"Donatello, I understand your endeavors, I really do. Why, when I was a young boy, I would take apart anything I could find. But yhou may NOT take apart the television, I don't want to miss Spongebob."

Our family really knows how to inspire.


	6. Flowers

"I need heeelp..."

Karai stands on my doorstep, jouncing lightly up and down agitatedly. She's actually a friend of mine.

"What do you need help with?"

"Well...I really need to get my stepmom a gift. It's Mother's day, did you know that?"

Honestly I was only vaguely aware, not having a mom and all..."Yes."

"But I don't know what to get her."

"Flowers."

"Huh?"

"Moms love flowers."

"Good idea. But I don't know how to shop for flowers", she admits sheepishly.

"Yes, I know." Karai was never much of a girly girl. "Which is why I just grabbed my book bag."

Then of course we are launched into the inevitable conversation about why one must not wear battle armor to the florist's, after which we forgot why we are going in the first place, so we sat on the couch and watched TV for a while.

After a while, Karai said, "Hey, you know it's Mother' Day?" And then we both facepalmed. "So THAT'S why we were going to the florist's!"

Then there's the fuss of finding something of mine that's big enough for her to wear. I am very petite. And when that's all over, we very nearly forget where we are going. It is a very forgetful day, apparently.

We walked downtown to my friend Emily's floral shop. She's the best in New York, I swear. Just very few people know it.

"Hi kids! Whatcha lookin' for today?" She has a very heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Something for Karai's stepmom, for Mother's Day."

"Stepmoms like roses. Roses always work", remarked Emily.

"True." So we opted for a dozen roses.

"Hold on...KARAI. DO YOU HAVE ANY MONEY?" She tends to forget her wallet.

"I remembered it this time!...But I only have 5 dollars."

So I ended up paying for the rest of the roses. Luckily there was a Mother's Day sale.

Karai showed up on my doorstep the next morning, looking miserable. "I forgot she was allergic to flowers."

"Karai, you forget everything."

"I know."


	7. Collaborate

"MJ!"

I walked into the kitchen angrily. "Donatello, I would greatly appreciate it if you would NOT yell my name through the apartment, please?"

"Sorry. But I can't find the can opener." He was trying to open kimchi. He likes kimchi almost as much as coffee. I think it's disgusting.

"In the sink. You're gonna have to wash it if you want it."

"I don't feel like it. Can you open this, by any chance?"

I twisted hard on the jar of cabbage. It didn't budge. Ignoring my own rule about yelling in the house: "RAPH!"

The sleepy turtle stumbles into the kitchen, yelling "WHAT?"

"You don't have to yell at me. I'm standing right here."

"BUT YOU YELLED AT ME!"

"Just be quiet, please, and open the kimchi for Donny."

"THIS is what you woke me up for? TO OPEN THE KIMCHI FOR DONNY?"

"Be a nice brother, Raphie."

"Don't call me that. Where's the can opener?"

"You'll have to wash it."

"Naaah..."

He twisted against the lid of the kimchi, but even Raph couldn't open it. And upon a further search for help, Mikey and Leo were fruitless against the jar's valor. And nobody felt like washing the can opener. We all stared dismally at the jar of kimchi on the table.

"We're gonna have to collaborate", Mikey announced suddenly.

"What? Mikey, where did you learn that word?"

"Dude. You're not the only smart one", Mikey answered Donnie pointedly.

"Anyway...how do you collaborate on a jar of kimchi, guys?"

"You put all your hands on it and twist it off together", Mikey explained with a loathsome air of superiority.

So we tried it. After a few yells of, "OWWWW! YOU'RE PINCHING MY HAND!" and, "I QUIT!", the lid still hadn't budged.

Then my dad walked in on the strange commotion. "Hold on now, kids. And turtles. There's no need for that." He took the jar of kimchi and twisted the lid off easily.

Raph gaped as my dad did something even he couldn't do. "How did you just do that?"

He grins. "Ya gotta believe in yourself, son!"

So we proved that collaborating doesn't solve everything, and Donnie finally got his kimchi.


	8. Duality

Donnie evidently had quantum physics on the brain last summer. It's all he ever talked about-Erwin Schroedinger and his cat, a theory he desperately wanted to test on my Indigo, though nothing he could have said would have permitted him to.

But a concept that utterly confused him was duality. Wave-particle duality. He demanded to know how light particles could possess both traits. And furthermore, he was enraged about the entirely speculative nature of the theory. His philosophy was that no-one had a right to make a theory and stand by it without at least striving to maintain some sort of proof.

I tried to convince him that they HAD been trying to get some proof, and that technically there was no proof that Schroedinger's cat was ever really undead, since you couldn't actually see it.

"Touche."

But Donatello was from then on set on disproving wave-particle duality; yet he was not sure how. He wasn't able to see light waves and particles with his naked eye.

But I ventured online and found out that Donatello had not read the entire article. He had stopped at the point where it said they hadn't yet found evidence, ready to rant about the injustice. But as of yet, his quest to disprove the theory was at least keeping things from blowing up, so I didn't reveal the fact to him.

And thankfully for us all, Donnie outgrew his obsession; however the word "paradox" has been permanently ingrained on Michelangelo's vocabulary.


	9. Symptom

Mikey bounced around the house, hitting the dog, annoying Raph, and causing destruction in every possible way.

"Hey! Let's play pretend boat!" I followed him warily into the kitchen, where he seized two empty glass soda bottles from my dad's collection and prepared to bash them against the counter, the side of the imagined "Boat."

"Why can't you just go make a boat out of couch cushions like a normal kid?"

"Okay!" He attempted to bash the bottles against the side of the couch until I snatched them haughtily out of his hands and returned them to their proper places.

"Awww..." As he tried to make do with rolled-up magazines (said magazines being quickly removed form him), Donnie told me gravely, "I think he's showing serious symptoms of severe caffeine."

"What's a symptom?" Michelangelo demanded, preoccupied with seeing if a tissue would make a good blanket.

"It means you have a horrible disease and you're probably going to die", Raphael answered in a severe tone.

"No it doesn't, Raph! It just means you're showing signs of something, Mikey. In this case it's caffeine. What did you eat last?"

"Ham sandwich-with pickles, and cool whip, and peanut butter, and lemons, and-"

"Okay, Mikey. I'm pretty sure it wasn't your lunch", said Donnie, partly to move on to the next course of action and partly to spare us all from a reenactment of the horror dubbed "lunch time".

"Leo is always the one who fixes him breakfast", I announced.

"You're right, MJ. LEO!" Donnie bellowed for his older brother.

"WHAT!"

"QUIT YELLING!" I commanded.

"WELL YOU'RE YELLING!" Raph yelled back.

"SO ARE YOU!"

"ONLY BECAUSE YOU ARE!"

"YOU GUYS! BE QUIET!" Leo hollered before sitting down with a tired expression. "What is it you wanted, Donnie?"

"WHAT DID YOU GIVE-"

"BE QUIEEEEET!" He's cut off by a simultaneous yell from the three of us.

"Okay. Sorry. What did you give Mikey for breakfast? He's really acting hyper right now."

At this point, I presume, Leo thought back to when he, in a stupefied sleep-induced state, accidentally grabbed the handle of the very milk-jug-like coffee pot and proceeded to pour it into Mikey's cereal bowl, only realizing his mistake after Mikey had devoured his corn flakes, and then hoping it wouldn't affect Mikey's normal behavior too much. He then went with the almost-truth.

"Cereal and Milk. Now quit bothering me. I had a long day." So saying, he retreated to his room, hoping the grumpy pronunciation would save him from trouble when the truth was discovered.

No such luck. As he bolted the door, his ears were greeted with Mikey's proclamation of, "Leo gave me coffee instead of milk!", which resulted in Donnie's "Oooooh" of sudden understanding, Me and Donnie nerding out over the word "Symptom", and Raph pounding down poor Leo's door to justify his afternoon of mikey-induced horror.


	10. Hats

Leo had developed an inexplicable obsession with hats.

He would appear at breakfast in a fedora, take his lunch in a conductor's cap, and say goodnight in a bowler.

The result was excruciatingly horrid. He looked bad in just a hat and no other clothes. Hats do not suit giant ninja turtles very well. We wanted to vetoe the hats as soon as possible.

None of us knew where he got the hats, just that he refused to take them off and that you hardly ever saw the same hat in a week. Donnie tested him. Raph bullied him. Mikey whined at him. Splinter talked to him. My dad fussed. And I sat back and watched. But to no avail; Leo was set on keeping the reason for his obsession unknown to those parts of the world that resided outside his hat-covered head.

They noticed I wasn't doing anything. Usually I'm the only one who can talk a whit of sense into any one of them-being the author and all-and so they begged me to appeal to Leo.

"Please, do something, MJ!"

Unfortunately for Leo, the word "Appeal" does not fit into my vocabulary.

I decided to use tactic 671 in the Book of MJ's Strategies: It's a Secret. You'll have to figure it out as you read this next part, because I never reveal my strategies to anyone.

Leo went to bed with his beret on, taking it off and exchanging it for a nightcap as he walked in the door to his bedroom. He was extremely displeased when I jumped out from under the bed and demanded the reason for his accessories of late.

"I won't tell you, Margaret"-he called me by my first name when he was mad-"And nothing you say will make me."

"Okay, how about I say I'll create an OC that utterly hates you and gets on your nerves a lot."

"Don't you dare."

"Or I'll tell the public about the time you walked in to breakfast wearing a fuchsia scarf."

"I thought it was red!"

"It was REALLY funny..."

"You better not!"

"Then TELL ME."

The fuchsia scarf threat was fortunately enough for our Leonardo.

"I'm bald. That's why I wear hats."

At this I could not hold back the laughter. Had he said the sentence "That squirrel over there is wearing a rubber diaper" it could not have been funnier.

"Why are you afraid we'll find out you're bald? Your brothers are all bald too!"

"Yeah but...I don't have any hair!"

"That's what bald means, Leo."

"Yeah, but...your dad has hair! And my dad! And you!"

"You look fine, Leo!"

After at least another half hour's worth of persuasion, Leo went to bed, though he refused to take off his nightcap.

Fortunately he arrived at breakfast the next morning hatless, and we haven't seen those dreaded hats again since.


	11. Asinine

Sorry for all the complicated words and stuff in my chapters lately...I don't know, I've been in professional author mode 24/7 lately. I'm annoying myself with this, so please bear with me and let's hope it's just a phase! I'll try to keep it simple for awhile.

* * *

Raph was trying to pound a Mikey-shaped dent in my wall, I swear. Almost did it, too. And on another note, I have no idea how Mikey survives all the poundings Raph throws his way, or why he's not a walking bruise by now.

But that's off subject.

Mikey somehow saved my wall by throwing an insult at Raph. When Raph gets insulted, he tends to want to insult back, and in this case, Mikey's insult was unusually complicated, and Raph felt the urge to match it in quality, so he stopped hitting his poor brother momentarily in order to come up with a better insult. Thank goodness, the wall has survived so far.

Mikey started the name game with "lily-livered jelly-spined toad-brain", a little advanced for Michelangelo if you ask me. He must've worked on that one awhile.

"Whadidja just call me?"

Mikey repeated his very descriptive moniker with a slight smirk.

"Well, you're a...a...an overgrown blowfish."

"Why a blowfish?"

"'cause you're full of air."

"Hardihar, you...you, uh, hot air balloon."

"You're struggling for words there, Mikey."

"Well, you're ugly."

"You're smelly."

"You're despicable."

"You're Daffy Duck."

"You're a disgisting old carp."

"You're a wimp."

"You're scared of bugs."

Raph struggled for an appropriate comeback, and found it. "You're...you're Asinine!"

Mikey stared at his brother. "Whaaa?"

"Uhhh...it's a word I saw. They were talking about someone just like you."

"Yeah, but what does it mean?"

Our resident genius was conveniently propped up against a nearby wall.

"It's a nice way of saying extremely incredibly dumb."

Raph was smug. "Yay. I actually used the right word."

"Whoa, dude, did you just say yay?" I inquired with a grin.

"Uhhh...no."

"You did! You did just say yay! And I caught it on video!" I like to film their fights, for later inspiration in a name-calling duel with my best friends LJ and JJ. (We call ourselves the J crew.) Such things happen often around us two.

"Why you..."

Raph advanced towards me, his attention off Mikey. But our resident peacemaker stepped in front of him, threateningly brandishing a nacho.

"Dude! What's with the nacho!" I peeked out from behind my shield of shell.

"I'm gonna smear it all over him if he hits you."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I don't care about a dumb old nacho!"

"Whatever happened to asinine?" Asked Mikey.

"Technically, Mikey, it just sounds wrong to call a nacho asinine."

"Oh. OK, you're the genius."

Raph plowed around the couch and towards the threatening nacho, which was held in front of Leo like a sword. Leo stepped aside to avoid his rant, but as Raph evaded the coffee table and came towards me, Leo stuck the nacho down Raph's shell. Said Raph started hopping around squealing sharply.

"I knew it would work. He can't stand stuff in his shell." Leo and I watched the panicking turtle hop around crazily, resulting an a knee bruised by the coffee table, a nasty trip over the couch, and an hour-long shower.

I guess you'd be surprised how hard it is to get a cheese-smothered tortilla chip out of your shell.


	12. Honesty

In this house, there is a lack of honesty.

You ask Michelangelo about why the television has cheese all over it, and you get an outlandish story about daffy duck and a giant wild boar who jumped through the window and ransacked our cheese supply.

You ask Raph where your blue willow dish is that you inherited from your mother, and he'll say Mikey flushed it down the toilet.

I'm sorry to say that even Leo has lied about the time he lost Spike's favorite toy, saying that Spike must have chewed it to pieces and swallowed it when in fact he accidentally dropped it down the sink and it got shredded up by the disposal.

Only Donatello avoids lying wherever possible. He has never lied. Until last Tuesday.

The TV was taken apart. If you'll recall in Inspire, my father specifically instructed Donnie to leave the TV intact completely. Yet there it was, its innards scattered tragically on the ground.

My father let loose a roar that filled the whole apartment. "DONATELLOOOOOOO!" It's the same tone of voice he uses with me and my brother when he's mad. Funny how we've all somehow become a family.

Donatello was conveniently absent.

I went to the back room to investigate and saw quivering feet poking out from under the bed. I sat on the bed so as not to scare the turtle.

"Listen. Donnie. You've gotta face the consequences of your actions sooner or later. I know you're scared of my dad. But you've gotta just take it like a man."

The quivering calmed a little.

"Now let's go out here and talk to my dad. I'm sure we can work it out somehow."

The turtle took a minute to ponder this. Then a muffled "'Kay" came from under the bed, and a turtle slipped out.

A freckled turtle, with an orange bandanna.

"Michelangelo! I thought you were Donnie!"

"Yeah, I know. What'd he do?"

"What were you doing under there?"

"Oh, I just like to hide under beds and shake around."

"Mikey..."

I wandered off in search of the real Donnie.

He had somehow managed to cram himself into the clothes dryer.

I opened the door, and a curled-up turtle peeked out at me from behind crossed arms.

"What?" he asked, hoping there was no danger.

"Why're you in the clothes dryer, Donatello?"

"Cause I was...wet."

"You were wet, huh?" I asked, flatly. "That's never bothered you before."

"Uh...I didn't want to get water on your carpet."

"Okay, well...when were you planning on getting out of the dryer?"

"When I'm dry?"

I poked him. "You're dry."

"The inside of my shell is still wet."

"Use the blow dryer, Don."

"Okay, okay." I helped him climb out of the dryer. He locked himself in the bathroom with my hair dryer.

After a long time, while my dad still ranted in the living room about missing Spongebob, I knocked on the door.

"Donnie! Are you dry yet?"

"Uhhh..."

Five more minutes of blow dryer sounds.

"Donnie!" No answer. Maybe he drowned in the toilet, I thought.

I opened the door. No sign of Donnie. I stood in the middle of the bathroom and spoke to the sink.

"Donnie. You know I'm gonna find you sooner or later. Just come out and let's get this over with."

No answer. I turned to the toilet.

"You'd better not have eaten Donatello, or I'll use the plunger on you."

I pulled aside the shower curtain. Donnie was curled in the bathtub.

"Okay, NOW what are you doing?"

"I'm...taking a bath."

"But you just got dry!"

"Well-I uh...I got cat hair on me!"

"So?"

"I'm allergic to cats-"

"No you're not."

"Yeah! I just took allergy medicine before but I ran out, so..."

"It can wait. Come on."

I hauled him up forcefully by the bandanna and pulled him through the hallway. Suddenly I was yanked into a closet. Donnie shut the door hurriedly.

"DONNIE!"

"SHHH!"

"What is it?"

"I heard a...a monster."

I listened at the door.

"Donnie. That's just my dad."

"No like I heard drooling and-AAARGH! IT'S GETTING CLOSER!"

My dog Puzzle had been locked in the closet along with us.

"It's just Puzzle."

"Oh."

I pulled him towards the living room and he looked frantically for a place to hide.

My dad glared at him. "YOU TOOK APART MY TV."

"Uhm...it wasn't me?"

"How was it not you?"

"It wasn't! I swear!"

"Then who was it?"

"Mickey Mouse?"

"WHAT?"

"Donald Duck, I mean!"

I sat on the couch watching interestedly. Donnie came up with the story that Donald Duck came out of the TV but he had to take it apart to get out and now he's terrorizing downtown Manhattan.

Dad made Donnie put the TV back together in the end.


	13. Beauty

I had writer's block at this chapter...don't get mad if it stinks...got the idea from some Garfield comic off the newspaper. I don't own Garfield.

And I am taking requests now.

* * *

I had gotten a book on turtles from the library.

I know it sounds weird...you live with a turtle, a mutant one, and you get a book on turtles, like little ones. But it's technically the same as getting a book on how to raise your child, right?

The book was evidently written by a turtle lover. I was laughing at the end of the first page.

"Turtles are astounding creatures, with amazing survival capabilities and calm, gentle personalities. They are one of the most beautiful creatures on earth..."

Scratch that. I was laughing before the end of the first paragraph.

Leo walked in, hearing me crack up.

"What are you doing?"

"Read this, read this", I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I bet you're laughing after the first paragraph."

"It's a book on turtles, MJ."

"I know...I know..." I took deep breaths to stop from cracking up again. "Just read it."

Leo cracked up at the same place I did. "Beautiful creatures?"

"I guess she never met Raph!" We were cracking turtle jokes and pounding the table so hard it was shuddering. Pretty soon everyone wanted to know what the commotion was, and Mikey and Raph collapsed in a heap on the floor as Leo and I banged on the table.

Donnie was the last to walk in, and Raph shoved the book at him, unable to talk. Donnie read the entire first chapter before looking up in confusion.

"What are you all laughing about?"

"The part where it says, Turtles are one of the most beautiful creatures on earth", Leo explained.

"...So?"

We all stared at him like he was crazy. He is, in a genius sort of way.

"What?"

"Donnie...it's just, I live with 4 gigantic turtles. And this lady apparently has no idea what she's talking about. I would hardly describe you guys as...beautiful."

Everyone cracked up again, except Donnie, who stood, still confused, in the kitchen doorway.

"Why not?"

"Donnie," I groaned. "Would you call Raph beautiful?"

"Uhhh..."

"No. He'd probably punch you if you did."

"Yeah", Raph chimed in. "I'm just handsome."

"Dream on, Raph."

"Look at me-I'm _beautiful!_" Mikey exclaimed, prancing around the room on his tiptoes. He got us all howling again. Even Donnie had to chuckle at Mikey's impersonation of a prissy lady-faaaaaace, as Mikey called it.

"But someone once said, beauty can't be defined."

I stared at him blankly. "Donnie. Don't ruin the moment."

* * *

I know, I know, it stinks. But I couldn't end it very well.


	14. Blue

Colors. They're everywhere. Inside, outside, around and above and below. And of course, like anything else, they are amazing argument-starters.

I was sitting at the kitchen table-I know, I know, a lot of chapters begin with me sitting at the kitchen table. What can I say? I guess my muse lives there.

Anyway, I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to get around the writers block surrounding a budding plot bunny, and listening to 4 teenagers arguing was NOT helping me.

I should have NEVER made those cookies, they were beautiful little discs with different colored icing on the top of them, and I had given them to Leo to give to his brothers so maybe-just maybe-I could get a little peace and quiet and get my story going.

Next time I want quiet I should ship them all to the Bermuda triangle. Maybe that was what I should have done in the first place, I thought, as I slapped my hand against my forehead. There is a lot of facepalming these days. Someday I am going to have a callous, I swear.

"I want the blue one", said Mikey contemplatively.

"Why do YOU want blue? Blue's my color, and you know it, Michelangelo."

"So what? Why do you always get blue all the time? Besides, there's no orange ones, just yellow! And I don't like yellow!"

Idea alert. Maybe next time, there should be NO frosting on the cookies.

"It's going in your belly, Mikey", Donnie informed him. "The inside of your stomach isn't going to care."

But I could see him slyly eyeing the blue-iced cookie even as he spoke.

"Let's compromise", suggested Raph, although compromise was a word that until then no-one had guessed was in his vocabulary. "I'll eat the blue cookie."

"Why do you all want the blue one?" howled Leo. "What's so special about the color blue anyhow?"

"Well, If you don't think it's all that special, Leo, maybe I'll just eat it. And you won't care."

"Nuh-uh, Mikey. That's not gonna work on me."

"You said-"

"I MEANT I was going to eat it!"

I know. I know. I should have been a good little authoress and gone and snatched those cookies right out of there so my poor bedraggled muse could get back to work.

But technically, my muse needed a break, and I could see a spark in Donnie's eyes, which always means he's getting an idea. I was curious about what he was thinking. And you should be grateful, because if I'd stopped them there'd be no story.

Donnie carried out his idea perfectly.

"Hey, guys, you ever wonder where food goes after you eat it?"

5 minutes later Donnie had cleared the room, his brothers trailing out of there with muttered "I'm not hungry anymore" 's.

He triumphantly snatched the blue cookie and ate it.

"So Donnie, that didn't even make you the least bit sick yourself?"

"Nope."

"You're bad."

"I know."

"And the bad get punished."

He looked at me alarmed. He knew that tone of voice.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE COOKIE, MJ?"

"I stole a sedative out of your lab."

With a squeal, Donnie raced to the lab for one of his creations, but it was too late. He should never have eaten the blue cookie. I walked in a minute later to find our resident genius asleep on the floor of his lab.

Yeah, yeah, I know, the bad get punished and all that. But for now I'm safe. I should really make cookies more often.


End file.
